Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ A BOOMER LIFE ❯ I have an owner's manual ( Chapter 1 )

 

A BOOMER LIFE

 

 

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Iridia Sunheart.

 

Note: I think a few persons should have noticed it. This story is inspired by very good stuff like bubblegum avatar and bubblegum zone. Thanks guys for your inspiration.

 

Thank you to Aeroprime for pre-reading and his corrections.

 

 

Chap 1: I have an owner's manual?

 

 

No good, no good. This was absolutely no good. I was running from the most powerful corporation in the world, naked under a lab blouse with no shoes. And oh, don't forget the nasty empty street with all the kind of junk to injure my feet. Did I mention it was no good? And to top that, I have somehow change species. I was now a Boomer, an experimental Sexaroid model, no less. The temptation to do a Ryoga Hibiki imitation was overwhelming: “Ranma, this is all your fault!” If only there was a scapegoat nearby.

 

Hey, wait! I have a scapegoat! This body came equipped with its own computer system. It must have some files about it.

 

`Esin? Do you have the specifics of my…hum…body?'

 

Affirmative

 

I take cover in a nearby abandoned building. Amazingly, I was not very winded by my course.

 

`All right, display my capacities.'

 

BU-33XS serial number 007

Experimental covert operations model

Ceramic-based chassis with reinforced joints and memory plastics

Autonomous nervous central system with full computer interface

Full sensorial military-grade package

Cosmetic disguise implements

Full sexaroid enhancements

Nano claws

Nano teeth with chemicals factory

Minimal fusion system

Enhanced organs and metabolism

Protective nano-weave

Note: due to the stealth nature of the model, standard Boomer strength and resistance have been discarded

 

Holy shit…I was a regular James Bond model. Well the femme fatale type at least. Oh yeah, never forgot that I change sex also. That reminds me…

 

`Esin? Why I am so calm?'

 

Internal balance systems regulate hormonal concentrations of host

 

`Hum…At least I will not become insane from cyber-psychosis. All right, change host designation to…'

 

Oh right. I need a name. I can't use my real name now. My MASCULIN name.

 

`…Iridia SUNHEART.'

 

Affirmative

 

Well, at least I have a cooperative computer now. I checked my map again then decide to go to the nearest residential district. I need clothes and shelter. My brand-new military-grade sensorial package was showing me that the nearby buildings were not appropriate to a sexaroid. There were some squatters in the proximity and I remember that the local faun will take an unhealthy interest in a young lone girl.

 

And then Murphy law strikes. It was beginning to rain. Great. Just great. It can't be worst than…

 

Warning: potential hostiles detected

 

Murphy law strike two. Around me, half a dozen men appeared. Probably because of the rain. They have the standard punk gang look and, oh yes; they were snickering and eying me like a slab of meat. They really didn't seem too friendly, standing there in shabby clothing, all wearing the same type of leather or plastic jacket with symbols inset and painted on. The grins plastered across their faces weren't evocative of real humor, more the anticipation of sick fun. At my personal expense of course.

 

I regretted the carelessness that had made me choose the closest shelter to reflect on my situation; it was reasonably well lit by a nearby lamp. I should have found somewhere quiet and dark where no one would have noticed me. The trouble was that it was difficult to break old habits; even though I 'knew' that if this was a Bubblegum Crisis Universe it was NOT safe to be out alone in some areas, I had subconsciously assumed I'd be OK. Probably because I was still thinking I was in an anime.

 

I kicked myself again. I need to find out about this world fast, and not make any more assumptions, especially since it probably wasn't like the anime anyway. Nope, knowing my luck it was a lot more dangerous.

 

My musings were stopped abruptly by a nasty chuckle from the leader of this gang.

 

"Well, and what's a lovely young girl like you doing out here all alone? Waiting for someone to warm her, maybe?"

 

Very original lines here. Of course, the fact that in their eyes, I was a visibly nude woman under a blouse was not something that promotes reflection. I looked up at the gang leader, my eyes narrowing as I glared at him. I was aware that various systems of my body were priming themselves as an automatic response to a hostile situation.

 

"Listen! I am not in the mood! I have been already mugged! I have nothing left! Go away"

 

This led to nothing but a burst of laughter from the gang. Looking around his cronies, the leader grinned then walked forward me. I growled under my breath, standing up with a graceful agility I did not possess before, a core of anger and fear growing deep inside me but controlled by my internals regulators. I really did not need this right now! Especially since I didn't have any idea if my fighting skills were up to the problem. Still, they were only street punks, and I thought I could handle them. Unfortunately, that means using serious stuff here and not a nice sparring match in a Dojo.

 

"I said go away! Now leave me alone!"

 

This statement proved less than effective. The gang leader stepped forward, one hand reaching out to me, looking as if he meant to grab and probably ripped open my blouse. Behind him I could see his grinning cronies, as they nudged each other, as the reaching hand seemed to go into slow motion as it approached me. Neat, my reflexes and speed are boosted in this body. Narrowing my eyes, I reached up, grabbing the slow-moving wrist in my right hand. In the back of my mind, I instructed Esin to take note of the movement of the others and warn me of their actions. I pushed the arm sideways, away from me, and twisted it in a particular way, feeling the bone flex as it bent and then broke under the very precise move.

 

The punk screamed a loud and shrill sound that was dampened by my audio-protection. He sagged to his knees with a look of sudden, wide-eyed fear and pain on his face. I hesitated for a second. I was surprised at the casual ease with which I had shattered his wrist. I knew how to painfully bend joints and the location of a few pressure points. But here, I used a technique that I didn't know previously. It was as if I have a full library of moves in the back of my mind. Letting go, I stepped back, allowing him to collapse fully.

 

"I told you to leave me alone!"

 

The man looked up at me and I watched as his fear change to anger and hate. Oh great Iridia. Treating him like this, in front of the other members of his gang, was THE way of making them go away and leave you alone. Well, now, you're in for a nice fight.

 

I stood in an easy, balanced Tai-Chi Ch'uan stance, waiting, as the punks gathered themselves into a rough half circle before advancing on me. It looked like they had no idea of how to fight as a team, which was fine for me. I was now trusting in the combat skills, precision and speed granted by my body. None of them had a gun out, so I was not going to pull an Indiana Jones, although most of them had knives and chains. My skin was knife-proof according to my specifics but I had no desire to find out the hard way.

 

The leader was still knelling on the street, holding his shattered wrist with his hand as I take his gang apart with my bare hands and my bare feet. I'd never feel anything like it before. It was good and smooth: The whole fight seemed easy and I was always in control. I get by instinct into positions where the punks were imbalanced or risked to strike their own then I'd dance or dodge out of the way with impossible speed. When I hit them, it was with a palm strike that smashed the gang members down or across the ground with a casual ease but of skill, not strength. The couple of hits they did get in didn't seem to affect me in the least. Pain was perceptible but certainly not what I would have felt in my original body.

 

Another neat thing during the fight was a head-up display in my vision field. I was seeing vectors predictions, suggestions of moves or techniques, a running analysis of strengths and weaknesses of my targets and a constant diagnostic of myself. Esin detected their biggest member; nearly two meters tall and built in proportion right behind me. I whipped around at the last moment, grabbed him by his jacket, then just picked him up off the ground and tossed him away to land in a crumpled heap some distance away. I had used his momentum against him with an Aikido technique. Of course for an uninformed exterior witness it looked like I'd just picked him up like a toy and tossed him away.

 

The leader winced as his final gang member standing was flattened by a backhand strike that dropped him unconscious. He glared up at me. Normal, in under a minute a small girl had turned his gang into a pile of broken and groaning bodies, and I didn't even seem to be breathing hard.

 

I looked down at the gang leader, the only one still left in a fit state to talk to me. I still felt incredibly hyped up after that fight as my systems were still in combat mode. I'd have to be careful in the future since I couldn't afford to let the intoxication get to me, fights were something I'd be far better off without in the ultra-violent environment of Megatokyo unless I truly had no alternative.

 

"I want your money, your clothes, your knife and your motorcycle."

 

He looked up, fear, anger and puzzlement mingling on his face. "What?"

 

I stepped forward, baring my teeth slightly. "I warned you! I was not in the mood! Your money, clothes, weapons and the key of your bike! Now! Or shall I break your other wrist as well?"

 

Not that I had any intention of doing so, of course, not with him helpless in front of me. Of course, he didn't know that. I could almost taste his fear, and it sickened me slightly, bringing me down fast from the high I'd experienced during the combat. He wasn't any threat to me now, although I was sure he'd like to be. There was a boiling, frustrated anger behind his fear. I had no need of Esin to perceive it.

 

He snarled at me, obviously hating the fact that he really didn't have any choice then executed himself awkwardly with his broken wrist.

 

“Keep your underwear.”

 

That really riled him up. He ragingly threw his stuff to me and I grabbed it all out of the air before it could touch the ground, watching his eyes widen as I rubbed in just how fast I was.

 

Stepping back and keeping one eye on the gang, I took off my blouse. His eyes widened in lust at my striptease but I was not staying almost naked another minute and they have seen all my goodies during the fight. He had blue jeans, a black tee shirt with `Priss and the Replicants' (Oh my God!), basket-shoes, a switchblade, some notes, and some sort of credit cards. I left them, not knowing if they could be traced, or even the common usage of them, stuffing the cash in one pocket of my jeans. Still moving carefully, I searched the fallen muggers, transferring their ready cash to me and taking a bag, a nice leather jacket and bike gloves.

 

He looked back up, hatred on his face. "We'll get you for this, bitch!!"

 

I turned around, not even acknowledged his insults or him. I found their bikes in the alley nearby: His was a standard Genom model with a gasohol engine and digital instrumentation. It started smoothly. Nice maintenance here or perhaps it was a brand-new stolen bike.

 

I drove in the direction of the residential area and loose the bike at a convenient parking. No need to be arrested with a stolen vehicle. I then locate a little hotel and pay cash for a room.

 

I sighed wearily, tossing my bag on the floor next to the bed as I shrugged off my jacket, letting it join the bag. It was your typical Japanese hotel room. About enough room for a canned fish, but it had a bed, shower and TV/entertainment unit, all I needed right now. The distributor at the entry had provided me a sandwich and a soft drink. This body needed normal sustenance. I sat heavily on the side of the bed brushing some strands of black hair back from my face, with my shoulders slumped. I didn't know why I was so tired, but the gritty irritation in my green eyes made it feel like I hadn't slept for a week.

 

I bounced slightly, testing the bed, feeling the hardness of the mattress then yelped as I caught my hair, which I'd managed to sit on.

 

"Damn! I'm not USED to waist long hair!!"

 

I really wanted to change back in my original body right now. I wasn't used to being this way, it felt not right. Moving, walking, even breathing, all of them felt odd, unfamiliar. It wasn't so bad when I was busy or active, but now... I kept twitching each time something else felt not like it should be. It was all hitting me again, very hard. But it was just so much effort now and I was so tired, I didn't think I could face the pain of dealing with the situation. I had to play it safe. Hah! Since I have been dragged away from home, the whole experience so far had been about as safe as handling anti-matter barehanded.

 

I groaned, and eased off my baskets, tossing them to the side with more hope than aim, then slowly and tiredly pulled off the rest of my clothes as I leant back, stretching out on the bed and trying not to catch my long, flowing hair under me. While I had to admit that it looked great on girls, I still couldn't work out how in hell to stop it getting in the way. Hopefully I could get something tomorrow to help keep it under control.

 

Frowning, I absently rubbed a spot on my arm where I parried a strike from a steel bar of one of the gang members. It throbbed very faintly, and I suspected I'd have not a bruise there tomorrow. I thought fuzzily that I really ought to look at that TV, find out more about where I was and how it related to the anime I was familiar with, but at the moment all I wanted to do was sleep...